Sleepless
by Pad-for-life
Summary: Three short stories during the first Order of the Phoenix


DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
  
Enjoy reading!  
  
Sleepless  
  
It was nearly midnight and Sirius was still awake. He was sitting on the edge of hid bed, deep in thought. Doubts and questions were whirling in his head like a never-ceasing bonfire. He sighed and leaned against the cold iron of his four-poster. The Order. Dumbledore. His friends: James, Lily, Peter, Remus.and Remus again. Sirius' mind had dwelled on him much more than on any of the others. What made him think it could be Remus from all people? He knew his friend well enough. and yet, there were things Remus had never told them, questions he had never discussed. And Remus knew practically everything about the Order. 'Don't be a fool!' shouted a voice in Sirius. 'He would never!' But another voice told him that Remus was in an excellent position to be a spy. Everyone trusted him, pitied him even, and after all, he was a werewolf. That part in him that was worse than any human, that controlled him every full moon, had also been the one Remus had always shoved aside. Had he ever answered Sirius' questions about how it actually felt, being a beast for one night that wanted nothing more than to kill? I don't remember much from my transformations. it's hard to explain how a werewolf feels. And they had always accepted his excuses, assuming he didn't want to speak about it. But now, Sirius wondered. If a werewolf enjoyed killing, would these memories affect the human enough to do the same? Sirius shook his head energically, trying to push these thoughts away. Remus was no spy. It could be anyone of the Order. Maybe it was Podmore; he had always acted so funny. that possibility was slightly reassuring. Looking at the clock on the wall opposite, Sirius decided he should try and get some sleep before dawn. He slumped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, suddenly feeling very tired.  
  
* * *  
  
Miles away, another young person was sitting on a bed, refusing to sleep. Lily Potter was waiting for the return of her husband, who was still at work. She hated it when he was late, but in these days even the Minister for Magic himself was doing overtime. Countless attacks and murders were haunting the country and although James was in danger himself, that didn't stop him to help others. Lily smiled as she thought of how much he had changed over the years. At school, he would always check in which house the person was before coming to his or her help. And if it was a Slytherin. Lily remembered only too well the constant fights between James and a certain Severus Snape. Although she would never have admitted it, she had sometimes been close to hexing the Slytherin herself and not been at all sorry when James did. He had had a point, after all, nearly every single Slytherin from Lily's year had become a Death Eater. Lily's thoughts were interrupted by the quiet opening of a door. Her face lit up as James Potter entered the room, soaked through, tired and his dripping hair standing on end. When he saw her sitting there, his hazel eyes lost some of their tiredness at once. "Why are you up yet, love?" he asked gently, sitting down next to her. She noticed him stifle a yawn and run his hand through his wet hair absently, making it look like a brush. "I've been waiting for you, of course. How was your day?" "Terrible," he groaned, taking out his wand to dry his clothes. "Four more attacks. Three families killed and the Longbottoms only just got away. And then Kroacher coming round to my office to spend an hour telling me I need to wear my protective clothes at work. As if I didn't know." "Did you wear them?" asked Lily, suddenly stern. "Mostly," replied James unconcerned, then grinned at her expression. "Don't worry, I do," he reassured her and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. Lily felt her agitation melt away. She knew that James, although most careless with some things, took his job very seriously and would never take more risks than necessary. "So what did you do?" he inquired, yawning again and starting to take off his now dry clothes. Lily watched amused how her husband nearly dozed off while changing into his nightgown. "I don't think you'll keep awake long enough to listen," she teased him. "I'll tell you tomorrow." James shrugged halfheartily, gave his wand a little flick, which caused his robes to fly neatly onto a chair, then dropped onto his mattress, stretching comfortably. Lily switched off the lamp on her bedside table and lay down beside James. 'I'll make him work less,' she promised herself as she cuddled up to him. "Night, darling," he muttered sleepily and placed a soft kiss onto her lips. "Night," whispered Lily and seconds later, the two had fallen asleep. In a small flat in London, a twenty-year-old man was desperately trying to do the same.  
  
* * *  
  
Severus Snape knew that there were problems coming up in his life he had never thought of. One of these problems was guilt. A smaller one was pity. And none of these things should be in the head of a Death Eater, who had just helped to kill a Muggle family, which, according to his master, had never deserved to live. Then why did the last moments of these people continue to pop up in Severus' mind? Then why had he not enjoyed the sensation of power that flowed through him every time he used an Unforgivable? The answer was Dumbledore. Dumbledore, the mudblood lover, fool and yet the only one the Dark Lord had ever feared. The idea of spying on Dumbledore for his master had been a tempting one and Severus had not hesitated to agree. He had known it was going to be risky and dangerous, but neither did he underestimate himself. It was not impossible for him to succeed and if he succeeded. That was something no Death Eater had ever achieved. And Severus Snape had only just now begun to understand why. Only three days ago he had met Dumbledore and gotten the job as a Potions Teacher at Hogwarts and in these past three days he had asked himself more questions than ever in his whole life. During their brief meeting, he had not doubted for a second that Dumbledore knew fully well who he was working for. There was something about this men higher than Legilimency, the way he had looked at Severus, known and, incredibly, accepted what he was. Dumbledore had given him the job knowing he had been in Slytherin, knowing he had always been fascinated by the Dark Arts and knowing that the members of the gang he had belonged to had all turned into Death Eaters.  
  
Why?  
  
Although he had never reckoned Dumbledore to be the fool the Dark Lord called him, Severus had always believed him much weaker than Voldemort. This old man, who had started the Hogwarts terms with silly jokes and ended them with speeches about union- as if any student could stand against the Dark Lord. Also the men, who had talked to Severus after the incident with the Whomping Willow, never blaming him, but making him feel as miserable as if taunted in front of the school. And now again this unfamiliar throbbing feeling was rising in Severus' mind. Fighting against it he told himself sharply that the Dark Lord had been right about Dumbledore from the start and that no Death Eater would allow himself to feel guilty. Yet as Severus Snape finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, the words he had once heard from his former headmaster seemed to echo in his head. ' And a time will come when all of us will have to question the path they chose; only that some will do it before setting foot on it while for others it will be too late to turn around.'  
  
* * * 


End file.
